


He Won't Fucking Drop It.

by RAIDEO



Category: The LEGO Movie (2014)
Genre: Car Accidents, Emmet is a cop AU, Hospitalization, Humanverse, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Slow Build, Swearing, bad cop on morphine, detailed account of a really grizzly car accident, gratuitous run-on sentences, i swear to god I have eventual con cop plans for this fic, mild PTSD, potential space pals cameos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-17 21:00:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2323022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RAIDEO/pseuds/RAIDEO
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dumb construction cop fic.  Somewhat gritty but interspersed with a lot of dumb fluff because thats how I roll.  Bad Cop doesn't like opening up to people.  Especially people he's ridden with guilt about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Accident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emmet is a rookie cop and he fucks up bigtime.

"Y'know you have really great eyes." 

Emmet couldn't help but crack up at that one.  Whatever they put Bad Cop on, it was some strong stuff.  He'd been standing here listening to his busted up friend spew nonsense ever since he woke up 20 minutes ago.

"You're so lucky I'm not a dick, because I would film this and put it on the internet, but that's not cool, so-"

"Don't fucking laugh at me I'm serious!" Emmet could detect a hint of genuine hurt in the officer's slurred words.  At least his friend still got angry easily.  That meant he was still himself a little bit at least.

"Ok B, you don't need to yell.  Thanks, and your's are pretty great too."  he patted the man's shoulder, trying to sound sincere enough to fool a very morphine addled Bad Cop.  The officer growled, his uncharacteristically cheery mood over as suddenly as it had begun.  Emmet was grateful to see more of his old mannerisms come through the morphine haze.  He felt guilty enough that Bad Cop was in the hospital at all.

"Don't even know why I'm here… I'm fine."

"Uh, fine?  You broke like, half of _everything_ _in your entire body._ " Emmet pointed to the cast on Bad Cop's arm and the neck brace.  "Pretty sure you couldn't leave even if you wanted to."  

"Oh please, I've had so much worse! Watch me stand up and walk out of here _right now_."  Emmet was torn between worrying that Bad Cop would actually try, and the curiosity to see how he'd go about it.

"See.  Told you." The man hadn't actually moved from his spot in the hospital bed, but he looked so smug about his victory that Emmet didn't have the heart to crush it.  Besides, if he tried, he was pretty sure it wouldn't even work- Bad Cop was not exactly seeing reason right now.  It was surreal to see the man like this.  Even when Bad Cop was fucked up, he always seemed like he had most of his wits about him, and he never lost his dignity.  Emmet might even have found the situation endearing if it weren't for the circumstances.

"Right- you sure showed me."

Bad Cop hummed in agreement, his eyelids drooping again.  Everything felt heavy and numb, like he was just a head attached to a person-shaped lead weight.  Soon enough he was asleep again and Emmet felt a strong pang of guilt.  He was so stupid to try and go with Bad Cop, so stupid to _insist_ that he come along.  He was too green, not cut out for anything like what had happened.  And he'd tried to be the hero, he was used to being the hero, but this time it was stupid to put himself in danger, and Bad Cop nearly killed himself trying to get him out of it. 

 

**************************************************************************************************************

 

Emmet caught up to the fugitive's car, had inched alongside the back corner of the vehicle, trying to nudge it so the driver would lose control and come to a stop relatively safely, like he'd been trained to do, but it backfired, and the sonofabitch wasn't afraid to slam on the brakes and wreck his own car trying to push emmet off the road and through the guard rail to his death.  Bad Cop hadn't missed a beat, and he gunned it, faster than his cruiser was meant to go, ramming into the back of the stolen red impala and sending it careening into the rock wall on the other side of the road with a sickening crunch.  His own car skidded out of control and rolled, like it was some kind of child's toy.  Emmet was shaken, but fine thanks to that stunt, but Bad Cop's car was smoldering, upside down at the end of a long trail of debris.  He could see blood leaking out of the driver's window already- oh god.  For a second the world around Emmet didn't exist, he didn't hear the cacophony of tires screeching, or the sound of cop car doors being opened and slammed.  Everything was silent except for the sound of his heartbeat thundering in his ears as he sprinted toward the wreckage.

"B!!" Emmet shouted, voice cracking, as he practically threw himself down on the pavement to look through the smashed window, bits of glass sticking into his palms.  "Holy fucking _shit_ , B, please be ok, say something if you can!  Just, god-"  there was so much blood everywhere, "d-don't move-"  Bad Cop groaned.  Fuck, he was alive!  Emmet felt arms on him, pulling him back, he shook them off - wanted to cry.  One person managed to muscle him out of the way and realized she was an EMT.  Thank god.  At that he backed away and let them work.

He stood by his car, biting his fingernails till there was nothing left.  This was all his fault.  Bad Cop would be so fucking pissed- Emmet would probably get fired… thats if Bad Cop _lived_.  He didn't get to look at him for long, but there was blood leaking out of his jacket and up his neck, and it looked like piece of the dash had pinned one of his arms back-

Emmet shook his head violently.  He knew he was supposed to be tougher than this, but Bad Cop was his friend.  _Bad Cop got him this job that he wanted so badly_.  This was horrifying.  It was hell on earth having to stand back and let the firemen and EMTs pry him out of the wreckage.  He wanted to help, to personally make sure his friend was ok.  He wanted Bad Cop to yell at him for being so stupid like he always did.  Emmet always hated being reprimanded before, but he'd take it back now over this.

Somewhere in the whirl of firemen and police, Emmet vaguely remembered seeing the fugitive being zipped into a body bag.  There was blood all over the shattered glass of the car windows.  It was like the guy's head fucking exploded.  He'd never seen anything like this- even before that horrible tuesday, and in his brief few weeks as a bonafide cop, he'd never been so close to such raw gore and destruction.  He'd never been the cause of it either.  Emmet thought he saw a chunk of meat lying on the pavement by the driver's side of the red car.  He felt sick, and looked away.

There was a sound of shouting and a rush of people past him, he looked up and saw bad cop being wheeled over to the Ambulance.  Emmet rushed over, jogging with the EMTs as they rushed the officer along.

"Is he gonna be ok?" Damn his voice for cracking...

"He's pretty banged up, we gotta move fast, out of the way."

"I have to ride with you guys- please?"

"That's probably not a good idea, now move!"  The man raised his voice as he helped lift the stretcher into the back of the ambulance.

"No- You don't understand, he's my friend and I got him in this mess and I have to ride with him to the hospital!!"  Emmet felt panic creeping into his voice now, he was about to just jump in anyway when he heard a wet, pained cough.

"He won't fucking drop it, just let him!"  Bad Cop snapped, his voice muffled under the oxygen mask they had strapped in place.  It looked like even _speaking_ was pure agony, and Emmet felt a crushing sense of shame.  He was doing it again.  Not letting things go, not taking no for an answer.  He hauled himself into the ambulance with Bad Cop and the EMTs and watched as the doors were closed behind him.

He radioed for someone to deal with his car.

 

**************************************************************************************************************

 

The drive was tough, Bad Cop was slipping in and out of consciousness, and when he was awake he tensed up, made the worst, ugliest, most heart-wrenching noises Emmet had ever heard him make.  He tried to be quiet, knew if he spoke, the officer would probably injure himself further by trying to throttle him for his rookie mistake.  Hell, for even coming along in the first place.  He couldn't take it any more though, if he didn't apologize now, he may never get to, and he'd never forgive himself.

"B, I am so… _so_ sorry."  It sounded ridiculous, like 'sorry' wasn't even the right word, like 'sorry' meant something other than what it did, as if he just as easily could have been saying 'I'm so chocolate' or 'I'm so… SO sunshine'.  Totally without any connection to something he should be saying after fucking up as royally as he just did.

Bad Cop grunted, and one of the EMTs glared at Emmet.  It sounded like the kind of noise he'd make if he had just been stabbed in the gut.  Angry, but tempered too much by pain to convey the venom that was really behind it.  Emmet looked at his hands and shut up for the rest of the trip.

 

**************************************************************************************************************

 

"I'm so fired- aren't I."  Emmet mumbled through his fingers to Reyes, a fellow police officer, sitting next to him in the hospital waiting room.

"I don't know, I mean, that was intensely stupid what you did, but the Boss didn't have to go all dragster on that guy's ass.  As far as I'm concerned, the _boss_ landed himself in the hospital, not you."  He put a hand on Emmet's shoulder.

Reyes had been one of the few friends Emmet had made in the police force.  Not many other people there liked him much, though a lot of them were still left from the old days before the city had been reformed.  It was tense being amongst your old enemies.  Even if they had only been doing their jobs to protect themselves.

"Seriously, he likes you though.  I'm sure he realizes he didn't have to do that.  When he gets back out of that morphine stupor they have him in, I'm sure you and him will be fine."

Emmet made a non-committal sound.  He wasn't convinced.

"Hey, for real.  I'm not just saying this shit to make you feel better, a lot of people on the force hate your ass because the boss likes you so much, and you've only been on for a few months!  He wouldn't have done that for anyone else."

"Great- that makes me feel _sooo_ much better."

"You were worried about his opinion, not anyone else's, right?  So there you go.  And I don't hate you.  I know you're good friends with the boss, and believe me, I don't envy that.  He's such a jerk most of the time I try to talk to him as little as possible.  Don't hate the guy, but don't wanna be his pal or anything."

Emmet groaned.  He liked Reyes, but sometimes his bluntness was exhausting.  At least he was honest.

"Hey you might think about going home and getting some sleep.  Someone will be here at all hours to make sure he's ok.  I can tell him to text you if you want?  Amazing his phone wasn't toast, they recovered it from the wreck.  Know you've been itching to talk to him, but it looks like it might be a while yet before he's out of la-la land.  No use running yourself into the ground before they take him off the meds and he's his ol' royal prick self again."

When he took a moment to think about it, Emmet was exhausted.  He hadn't slept in over 48 hours aside from 5 minute naps in the waiting room here and there, when he was too tired to keep his eyes open anymore.  Everything was still so fresh in his mind, it was hard to think about sleeping.  He wasn't sure how he'd be able to, but he figured it was probably time to go home and try.

"Yeah you're probably right.  Call me if he starts coming around?" 

"Will do, champ."  Reyes clapped a hand on Emmet's back "Try not to worry about this too much for a while."

 

**************************************************************************************************************

 

Emmet hadn't realized how long he had gone without outside contacts until he picked up his phone at the station and saw that it was absolutely full of texts.  About 30 from Lucy, and at least 10 from the rest of his friends.  _Each_.  Fuck- he had hoped no one was too worried about him.  The chase was probably all over the news- hopefully they'd found out that he was alright before too long.  He wondered if any of them were as worried about Bad Cop as he had been.  He was too tired to deal with any of those messages right now.

He pocketed his phone and walked out to his car.  God- he'd even parked right next to B's motorcycle.  There was no way he'd be driving that home any time soon.  Emmet tried not to look at it as he unlocked the driver side door and flopped into the seat.  Everything was fine- he tried to tell himself.  Bad Cop was alive.  Very broken, but alive.  Because of B, he was alive too, and without more than a few scratches and some really bad memories.  The criminal was… well in any case he wouldn't be a problem anymore.  This was better than how things could have turned out.  He tried to just focus on that as he turned the key in the ignition.

 

 

**************************************************************************************************************

 

_All emmet could hear was a shrill ringing in his ears.  He could see only rough shapes bathed in red.  A dull ache settled into his ribs and neck.  He willed it to stop but it amplified by the second, as if someone were steadily turning it up like a volume dial, and there was no limit.  Each second became more excruciating than the next with no end in sight.  There was a sudden stinging in his eyes that he realized was blood.  He blinked furiously, tried to raise his hand to wipe it away and realized he couldn't feel either of his arms.  He couldn't feel anything but the blinding pain, still increasing with every passing moment.  Everything swam into vague focus, and his head seared.  He let out a sob, but stilled as white hot spikes of pain pierced his chest.  He screwed his eyes shut, wishing the blood would stop pouring into them.  Where the fuck was he? What the hell happened?  Was he dying?_

_He heard the noise of branches snapping, and with some effort he unstuck his eyelids._

_"Emmet!" He recognized the voice, but the pain prevented him from connecting it to its owner.  He heard dirt tumbling down followed by hurried footsteps and more snapping twigs, he even thought he felt some of the dirt fly by his face.  He wanted to yell, to look and see who it was that was coming for him, but he couldn't move, and he could barely speak._

_"Emmet - god please be ok…" The words seemed familiar to him.  This felt like deja vu._

_"Fuck!  Try not to move."  He felt rough hands on his face, gently wiping some of the blood away.  He knew those hands, the gloves- those were Bad Cop's hands…_

_His vision swam out of focus again, and he began to feel heavy, some of the pain began to let up._

_"Emmet, no!  Stay with me, god dammit!!"_

_Bad Cop was shouting now, but Emmet couldn't understand him.  He sounded underwater- far away.  He let his eyes fall closed, and thought he could hear what sounded vaguely like crying, somewhere in the distance._

 

**************************************************************************************************************

 

Emmet woke in bed with a start.  He was freezing, and realized he'd never changed into his pajamas or even bothered to get underneath the blankets or turn up the thermostat.  For all intents and purposes it seemed as if he literally just flopped down as soon as he got home, no shower, no change of clothes.  There was still a bit of dirt and blood on his uniform.  Damn.  He was hoping the accident hadn't happened.  That his dream was just a disconnected, random nightmare.  After a few seconds he realized his phone had been ringing and he scrambled to dig it out of his pocket and answer it.

"Hey-" he croaked without looking to see who it was, and he was surprised at how hoarse his own voice sounded.

"Emmet what the hell?!"  It was Lucy.  "Are you ok?  I texted you like 5 billion times! I had to fucking watch the news to find out if you were still alive."

"I'm fine."  He rubbed his eyes, still shaking off the nightmare.  He couldn't help but be annoyed that anyone had actually expected him to be near his phone after the events of the past few days.

"I just wish you had called."

"I know- I'm sorry I left my phone in the car, and I left my car to ride back in the ambulance."

"But you just said you were fine? Why did they put you in an ambulance??"

"No- I rode back with B."  there was a long pause on the other end of the line.

"That was his car that rolled wasn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Is he…"  there was another pause.

"He's alive.  He'll make it."  Emmet could hear Lucy let out the breath she had been holding on the other end of the phone call.

"Thats good, I'm glad."

"No- it's not.  He almost turned himself into hamburger because of me and he broke _everything_ and there was a lot of internal bleeding-"

"Emmet." Lucy interjected. "This isn't your fault.  That was his choice, and it was a good one too.  It looked like he may have saved your life.  He was doing his job."  Emmet could tell there was a lot more Lucy had to say, but he was happy she seemed to be holding her tongue this time.  Months ago, she wouldn't have.  She wouldn't have been supportive at all.  He could tell she still hated the man, and Emmet couldn't really blame her, but he'd made up his mind to give Bad Cop a second chance when no one else would because he knew Bad Cop could redeem himself.  He'd seen good in him before.  Emmet couldn't help but feel anger well up in the pit of his stomach.  

"If he's paralyzed because of this I'll never forgive myself…"  Lucy made a frustrated noise.

"Emmet _calm down_ , I'm sure he'll be fine.  He's been through hell.  He's had acid poured on his fucking face for Christ's sake, and didn't even go to the hospital for it.  I'm sure if those doctors weren't keeping him strapped in and drugged, he'd try to bust out."

"He couldn't go to the hospital for that-"  Emmet didn't want to talk about this right now.  As if being reminded that the police chief had been through such cruel and unusual punishment made him feel any better.

"You know what I mean."  More silence.  Arguing with Lucy was usually a dead end.  She was almost always the voice of reason, and even if Emmet didn't like to admit it, he usually came around to realizing she was right.  Bad Cop was tough as nails.  He had to be.  Emmet almost wanted to laugh at how right she was.  He'd tried to leave even with the drugs and the traction.  He didn't get very far.  Not anywhere at all, actually.  But god, he'd wanted to.

"Ok."

"Look, I'm sorry, you sound really tired.  I'll text everyone else to let them know you're ok and to give you some space.  I just had to make sure you were alright."

"Thanks."  He wanted to say more, but that's all he could manage, and it came out sounding sarcastic.  He meant it though.  She'd really been a great friend to him.  Things hadn't worked out too well between them in the relationship department, but Lucy wasn't bitter about the break up at all, and she still had his back when he was in trouble.  He couldn't hope for better friend, honestly.

"Don't beat yourself up over this ok?  I get that you've made him your little rehab project, and you want this to work out, and you want to be good friends, but don't forget the things he's done.  Don't worry about him too hard.  He probably wouldn't want you to anyway."

"Mm"

"Get some sleep, I'll talk to you later."

 

**************************************************************************************************************

 

The following week was torture.  Emmet had tried to visit Bad Cop in the hospital twice, but apparently, Reyes had given orders not to let him in.  The first time he'd been turned away and he was too tired to argue.  He just stood in the doorway looking like as pathetic as he could muster before turning back to his car.  The second time, he had tried to sneak in, and was more or less thrown out by Reyes himself.  

"I told you I'd let you know when he was feeling better, do you not trust me or something?"  Reyes laughed and Emmet pouted hard.  It looked cartoonish.

"I just thought it would be sooner!"

"The guy breaks all but 2 of his ribs, sprains his neck, gets a piece of his car jammed clear through an arm-" he listed off the injuries on his fingers, "a zillion other things, and you feel like they'll take him off of morphine in under a week?  Emmet, he's still got surgeries scheduled!"  Emmet looked away and sat down on the curb, putting his face in his hands.

"I promise.  I will let you know _as soon_ as he's doing better ok?"

"I'm sorry I just- I want this not to have happened."  Reyes went silent, and sat down next to him.

"I know."  There was a long pause between the two of them. "You know the hospital not letting you in was my thing, but I tried to convince them to let you work this week."  Emmet looked at him in confusion. "Would've probably been better.  Would've been a distraction at least, even if they just had you doing paperwork."

"Thanks."

 

**************************************************************************************************************

 

It was saturday, and Emmet was finally beginning to calm down.  Benny had come over with movies and snacks.  Lucy had gotten him out of the house once or twice.  It was nice to have a little time off with friends checking in on you, though the circumstances were less than ideal.

He was making coffee for himself on the first day he'd managed to get up at a normal hour since the accident, when he heard his phone buzz loudly against the kitchen counter.  He practically pounced on it, forgetting the coffee completely.  It was a text.

"Get over here now."  - B

Shit, had he missed Reyes' call?  Whatever.  Emmet probably set records with how fast he was dressed and out the door.

At the hospital, a very annoyed looking Reyes was waiting outside the lobby to great him, smoking like a dragon.

"Are you going to stop me again? I swear to god he just texted me-"  Emmet held up his phone.

"No I'm not gonna stop you this time.  I know he did, and he also just told me to go fuck myself, so I guess he's all better now?" He shrugged and puffed angrily on his cigarette. "Like I said, I do _not_ envy you, kid."  Emmet frowned.

Great.  Here it comes.


	2. A Slap On The Wrist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Cop yells a lot and gets out of the hospital and is a cranky asshole. Emmet brings him home.

Emmet spent the last two and a half weeks wanting to be here, but now that he knew what was coming, he couldn't bring himself to walk into that room.  The extent of Bad Cop's perpetual shitty mood was often so unpredictable, and this was the first time he'd ever seen him go to the hospital.  He couldn't move himself from the doorway, his feet felt like they were made of lead, and his chest was tight.  When he heard Bad Cop bark at him from inside the room, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"I can see your reflection in the goddamn window, you idiot.  Get in here!"

"S-sorry…" Emmet stammered and shuffled sheepishly in, suddenly he felt that going into that room was now second to whatever would happen if he chose not to.  Any hopes Emmet had that Bad Cop wouldn't be as intimidating while half covered in casts and bandages vanished instantly.  Still terrifying.  Sometimes he almost wished he'd kept his old job.  Simply being B's advocate was one thing, having him for a boss was another.  It was complicated this way, Emmet was his subordinate and also had the power to ruin his life.  Or what was left of it, anyway.

"Shut up and sit down."  The officer barked, and Emmet wasted no time throwing himself into the nearest chair.  He glared daggers at the guard peering into the room.  "Shut the door, _please_."  Emmet didn't think it was possible to make the word 'please' sound like the worst curse in the book, but Bad Cop was full of surprises.  As soon as he heard the door latch his eyes snapped to Emmet again.  Emmet felt like prey.

"Do you recall how long you've been working for the force, Brickowski?" Bad Cop's eyes were wild.  Emmet was afraid to speak, which was just as well, because Bad Cop started again before he could answer.  "Because officers that have been working for the BBPD for years wouldn't have pulled that kind of stunt without any warning or any orders to do so." He pointed with his good hand in a seemingly random direction, emphasizing his statement, and Emmet was confused.  He looked at him for some kind of reassurance.  Was B fucking with him?  Was he still on the morphine? 

"I should have you fired for this kind of behavior!"  He pointed harder, gritting his teeth with the effort, it obviously hurt him to move much at all.  Emmet looked in the direction he was pointing and then back, utterly stumped.  He was pointing to the wall?

"What are you-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, BRICKOWSKI!! I'M TALKING RIGHT NOW!" Emmet's eyes were wide, and he was gripping the arms of his chair so hard his knuckles were turning white.  What the fuck was going on?  He knew that B used to use psychological torture in his interrogations in the old days but this was insane.  Emmet wasn't sure what he expected or thought he deserved, but it sure as hell wasn't this.  He thought B was done with that kind of thing-

Bad Cop stopped pointing and rubbed the bridge of his nose, exasperated.

"God dammit..."  He went back to pointing, wagging his finger ridiculously in the direction of the wall.  He was mouthing something this time too. Board- white board?? Emmet looked over his shoulder again.  There was a dry erase board and marker on the wall where Bad Cop had been pointing.

"Ooh! The-"

"FUCK'S SAKE, DO YOU NOT KNOW WHAT _SHUT UP_ MEANS!?"  Emmet clapped a hand over his mouth but ventured to get up from his chair for the white board velcro'd to the wall.  Bad Cop was nodding slowly, holding out his hand.

There was a knock on the door and Bad Cop furiously motioned Emmet to put it back and sit down.  He dropped the marker on the floor before grabbing it and stuffing it in his pocket.  The officer glared at him.

"What is it?"  Bad Cop barked.

The door opened a bit, and the guard peered in again.

"A nurse just came over here asking me to tell you to tone it down."  He moved to close the door after seeing the police chief nod, but he leaned back in at the last minute "Also I think you should go easy on the kid.   From what I understand, this wasn't entirely his fault-"

"You're next." Bad Cop eyed him accusingly.  The guard didn't dare say another word, and closed the door again.

Emmet sprang back up instantly and retrieved the white board, giving it to B.  He tried to keep as much distance as he could, in the event that it was an elaborate plan to get Emmet close enough to punch.  When he reaized it wasn't, he was grateful, and returned to his seat, while Bad Cop scribbled furiously.

"You endangered so many people by doing that, not just me." His tone was cold and measured as he held the whiteboard up.  It read  ' _They're expecting a bloodbath._ '  Emmet raised an eyebrow, did this mean there wouldn't be one?  B spoke up again as he erased the board with his palm.

"That fugitive is toast because I had to save you." Emmet flinched, thinking about the poor bastard's face spattered all over the inside of that windshield. ' _He tried to kill you, serves him right.'_ He wasn't sure if he agreed, but he appreciated that Bad Cop didn't blame him for what happened.

"I should kick your sorry arse!  Would too, if half my bones weren't broken."

'D _on't ever put yourself in danger like that again._ '  Emmet wanted to look away, Bad Cop's eyes were burning into him.  He felt a ball of anger forming in his stomach.  He wasn't a kid.  He wasn't an idiot, and he could take care of himself.  What he did was careless, but he was doing a good job until the fugitive decided to slam on the brakes.

Bad Cop dropped the board on his lap.

"Don't pout-"  He paused to emphasize that he meant it before writing again.  ' _We need to talk more about this some other time._ ' The officer let out a long sigh and held out the board out for it to be put back.  He looked tired, and like he needed more painkillers and a long nap.  Emmet returned the dry erase board to the wall where it belonged.

"If you pull any shit like that again, you're done.  Understood?" Emmet nodded slowly.

"Good."  There was a long silence between them.  It made Emmet uncomfortable.

"They said they'll let me out of here in a week…" He spoke softly now,  "most of the ribs were clean breaks or cracks, so they shouldn't take too long to start healing."  The tension in the room ebbed away slightly, but the crushing guilt was coming back.  Emmet put his face in his hands.

"Don't start cryin-"

"I'm not crying!"  Emmet snapped.  "I just feel terrible ok?"  Bad Cop gave him a pained look.  He cared about Emmet more than he wanted to admit.  He couldn't help but be soft on him.  And after all the shit he'd put him through, Emmet was still here, still visiting him in the hospital and putting up with him.  There was another silence.  It felt like years passed in those few minutes.

"So do you need me to pick you up?" Emmet spoke to the floor.  Bad Cop laughed, clutching his side.  It _really fucking hurt_  to laugh.

"You'd still do that even after I screamed at you?"

"Well I'm not going to make you walk home." 

"Everyone else probably would."

"I know."  Bad Cop wouldn't look at him anymore.  Emmet could tell that it was eating at him, the guilt.  B didn't think he deserved any forgiveness, and yet here Emmet was, with an endless supply of it, and a seemingly endless tolerance for getting yelled at by his boss.  Whether it was just for show or not.

"You can go now if you want.  That's all I wanted to say for now."  The police chief mumbled into his shirt.  He'd only ever seen Emmet this upset once before.  Before things had changed, and it was bringing back old memories.  Things he fought daily not to think about, that he fought to put behind him.  Horrible things he'd done.  

Emmet stood to go

"B?"

"Mm?" Bad Cop looked up at him.

"Thanks for saving my life."  He gave a half smile, and left.  Bad Cop felt terrible.

Reyes caught up to Emmet in the hallway, looking pale.

"So how was your meeting with Satan himself?  I hear the nurses had to tell ol' sunshine to quiet down after he woke everyone up within a 5 mile radius-"  Emmet rolled his eyes.

"Reyes-" He was not in the mood for this.

"Listen, if he fired you, me and a couple other guys were thinking about quitting.  Did he fire you?"

"No he didn't."  Emmet frowned.  "Maybe you should quit anyway though?"  He quipped.  It was nice knowing that Reyes had his back, but he couldn't help but be annoyed by the man's contempt for his boss.

"Hey man, the guy tears into you and you're still on his side?"

"He saved my life Reyes.  And he _didn't fire me._ "

"He said he was gonna kick your ass!?"  Wow B wasn't kidding, they _were_ expecting a bloodbath.  Bunch of vultures, the lot of them.  They all must have listened in.

"Yeah, I'll make sure to watch my back for anyone trying to jump me in a neck brace, arm and leg casts, and crutches."  Emmet stopped, turning to Reyes.  "Look, he's my friend, but he's also my boss, and I did something stupid on the job. I put lives in danger, and all he did was yell at me!  You're right, he IS tougher on everyone else."

"Alright."  Reyes croaked, and left Emmet to storm out of the building.

 

**************************************************************************************************************

 

Emmet was nervous.  He knew Bad Cop hated being anything less that completely self sufficient.  He didn't like people very much, and he really didn't like having to rely on them.  He was bound to be grumpy today.  Emmet drummed his fingers on the car windowsill as he waited, idling in front of the hospital doors for the nurse to bring Bad Cop out in a wheelchair.  It was surreal seeing him like this.  Emmet knew that if there was any possible way B could walk out on his own without re-breaking something or passing out from the pain, he would.  

"Hey!" Emmet waved cheerily as soon as he saw the nurse exit the building with him, and got out of his car.  Bad Cop grumbled and shielded his eyes from the sun.  His aviators had gotten wrecked in the car crash, they'd even had to pick a few shards of them out of his face.

"You ready to go?"

"No, they just brought me out here for no reason."  The nurse shot Emmet a long suffering glance.  They were probably really glad to be rid of him.

"Aw come on don't be like that."  Emmet helped Bad Cop get up and into the car.  He lowered into the passenger seat, gritting his teeth.  He hadn't dealt with this kind of pain in years.  "Hey let me help you with the belt, you're not supposed to be twisting around and stuff yet right?"  B growled.  This was complete shite.  He'd only been out 10 minutes and already he'd had enough of being dependent on Emmet for everything.  He couldn't buckle his own god damn seatbelt.  B felt pathetic.  If only he hadn't slammed into that car- he'd done it in a blind rage.  One second he was completely level headed and then the next, that guy had tried to run Emmet off the road and something in him snapped.  He hated it.  He was being protective of him.  He remembered thinking about how guilty he'd feel if he didn't stop that driver.  It was so unprofessional.  Everyone was beginning to see it, and yet he couldn't stop.

Bad Cop's train of thought screeched to a halt when he realized Emmet was leaning over him, reaching for the belt buckle.  He was so close.  It was a cold morning, and he could feel faint heat radiating from his body.  Bad Cop stilled.  Emmet made a frustrated noise, the belt was stuck behind the arm rest.  God dammit, of course it was.  He willed the heat to stop building in his face.  This was ridiculous.

"Just leave it-"  He snapped, and Emmet laughed.

"Oh no I'm not taking any more chances with you- safety first."  Bad Cop wanted to punch him.  Emmet freed the belt and pulled it across. "Here hold this part so it doesn't press on your ribs too hard."  The police chief did as he was told, and Emmet buckled him in gently before shutting the door.  Bad Cop let out the breath he'd been holding.  

Emmet threw B's stuff in the back and climbed into the driver's seat.  Bad Cop was looking pointedly out the window, head turned as far away from Emmet as his foam collar would allow.

"So you gonna tell me where you live? Or am I going to nurse you back to health at my apartment?"  Bad Cop winced.  His apartment was a wreck if it was still how he left it.  He felt more heat creep into his face from the embarrassment.  Emmet would surely have something to say about the state of it.  He tried to think of a way out.

"I'll give you directions, you can just drop me off outside my door."  Emmet made a face.

"No way, you need someone around to help."

"I don't need your help."  Bad Cop snapped.

"Uh, yes, _you do_."  Emmet turned to him.  "Look I know you probably hate me, and I know you hate not being able to do things yourself but I know I'd need someone to do this for me if I got as messed up as you did.  I probably wouldn't even be alive!"  

Bad Cop knew he wouldn't win this.  Not in the state he was in.  He turned back to the window.

"Take the first left at this stop light."

 

**************************************************************************************************************

 

Getting to the 6th floor would have been utterly impossible if it weren't for the elevator, and for Emmet's help.  Bad Cop was clutching his side, aching from the trip.  Every bump in the road registered in sharp spikes of pain.  He needed to lay down and pass out.  And get away from Emmet, who had been holding onto him and helping him walk the entire time.  Only one of Bad Cop's legs was broken, but Emmet refused to let him use his crutches yet because of his other injuries.  Outside his door, the officer fumbled with his keys.  He was pissed off and in pain, and it was hard to find his apartment key on his key ring in such a state.  It felt like they'd been standing there for an eternity, Emmet still holding him up, being so careful not to bump anything that hurt.

"If you tell me which one it is I can find it for you."  Emmet didn't seem impatient, he was genuinely offering his help.  It was ridiculous.  His left arm wasn't even broken.

"I can use this hand fine, look how well it still works!" Bad Cop flipped him off.  Emmet frowned.  This was going to be a long week, he could feel it.

Finally he found the key and opened the door.  He was grateful when Emmet hadn't immediately commented on the empty booze bottles on his coffee table, visible from where they stood.  Bad Cop didn't count on escaping that forever though.

Emmet helped him inside, and shut the door.  He tried not to make a show of looking around.  The place was tiny and sparse.  There was a small leather couch, an old wooden coffee table covered in condensation damage and a tv in the living room.  Behind that there was a small open kitchen with a sad looking lightbulb on a string.  There were more bottles on the counter.  Bad Cop didn't mind that it was a dump, but he suddenly felt self conscious standing in his own home.

"Yikes..."  There it was.  If he could only just walk on his own, bad cop thought.  He'd shove emmet out the door and lock it.  He was beginning to wish he'd just died in that crash, or that his only real friend wasn't who it turned out to be.

"Sorry just- I'm not sure what I expected."  Emmet was used to having a nice apartment.  He had a well paying job as a construction worker.  He still did as a cop.  Bad Cop did now too, but he hadn't bothered to get another place.  He was used to this one, and no one knew where it was.  Well, no one used to.

"I don't want to hear about it."  Funny, he'd meant to say 'sorry for the mess, wasn't expecting company' but that came out instead.  Well if it got Emmet to shut up about his apartment-

"Sorry.  You probably wanna lay down right?  Show me the way."  Bad Cop reluctantly nodded in the direction of the hallway and Emmet helped him to the bedroom door.  

"You can let me go, don't need you to tuck me in."  He spat.

"Nope, you definitely do."  Emmet put on a dopey smile.  Bad Cop was definitely not in the mood for this shit right now.  His face heated.  He felt like Emmet was treating him like a child.  He glared daggers through him.  Emmet was too strong for Bad Cop to protest, and besides, he'd probably hurt himself if he tried.  Only having one leg to stand on really limited one's options.

Emmet helped Bad Cop onto his bed, and set his pain medication on the side table with a glass of water.

"Don't try to go anywhere, I'm gonna go back down to the car to get our stuff."  Bad Cop scowled.

" _Our?_ "

"As in, your stuff and my stuff-"

"Why do _you_ have stuff that you need to bring into _my_ apartment??"

"I'm staying here to make sure you're ok, dummy!"  The officer groaned and covered his face with his good hand.  

"Just get my things and go home.  Come back tomorrow if you're so damn worried about me!  I haven't had a moment of peace since I came into work the day of the god damn wreck-"

"Calm down! You won't even know I'm here, I promise!"  Emmet protested.  Bad Cop let his arm drop to his side and stared up at the ceiling, defeated.  "Besides, you're probably going to be sleeping most of the time anyway.  I'll be out of here as soon as you can use the crutches, I swear."

"Fine."  Bad Cop croaked.  Emmet's face lit up, it was ridiculous.  This wasn't some god damn slumber party.


	3. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Cop has feelings and tries to pretend he doesn't. Emmet takes care of the grumpy pissbaby cop and hilarity ensues. Warning: this chapter is slightly nsfw. (forgive me if this chapter has bad grammar and weird wording- I was seriously tired and stressed out when I wrote a lot of this so-)

Bad Cop woke to a pressure in his chest.  He tried to sit up and white hot pain blossomed everywhere.  He yelped.  It was probably time to take more meds, but for the moment all he could do was lay there and wait for the soreness to subside.  He noticed it was dark- he couldn't tell what time it was, his clock was to his right, and turning that way would make things worse.  It was quiet, and Bad Cop hoped to himself that Emmet had just left.  In any case at least he was asleep if he was still here.

He heard a knock and almost jumped out of his skin.  He felt like his insides were on fire, everything screamed from being tensed up so suddenly.  So much for Emmet being gone.

"Jesus christ! _What is it?"_  He yelled.  The door opened a crack, it was Emmet.

"Are you ok? I heard you yell - I just wanted to make sure you didn't need help…"

"I'm fine." Bad Cop's voice was hoarse.

"You don't sound fine."  Emmet came in.

"Just- I need to-" He tried to sit up again, it wasn't working and the pain was making his eyes water.  Emmet rushed over, before Bad Cop could protest, his hands were on him, gently helping him lean forward, jamming pillows down his back so he could sit up.  The police chief made a soft pained noise.  Emmet stopped what he was doing.

"Did I hurt you?" It was dark, and hard to see, but Emmet looked scared.

"No-"  The only other people that had treated him like this were his parents, and even then, that was so long ago.  Back when he was a kid and he let them.  Emmet was so careful with him though, so gentle and willing to help.  Maybe it was the pain, the emotional trauma of the accident or the meds, but his heart was aching.  It made B desperately wish Emmet was an asshole, it'd be so much easier than this.  "Just, everything hurts anyway, it's nothing you did."

Emmet studied him, an expression of worry still settled on his face.  There was more there too, Bad Cop could tell.

"Here I'll get your pills."  

"The accident wasn't your fault either."  The words just spilled out before he could stop them.  

"B-"  Emmet looked upset, like he was still beating himself up over what had happened, and he'd chained himself to the biggest asshole in Bricksburg to make up for it.  Like it was some kind of debt to be repaid.

"I can deal with being hurt.  Probably deserve it."  He looked away.  There was so much more there to say, but he didn't want to.  Or he couldn't.  Either way it didn't matter.  Emmet was silent, studying Bad Cop's face intently.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you- they all think I go easy on you because of who you are."

"Don't you though?"  Emmet's words hit B in the chest.  "You won't fire me."

"You're a good officer, just stupid and stubborn."  Bad Cop growled.  "Do you want me to fire you?   _I thought you wanted this job?"_

"I did!" Emmet fidgeted.  "I still do!  Just, I don't want you to give me special treatment because of who I am or because I gave you a second chance.  If you're afraid you'll get bad publicity for it if you fire me, I can-"

"Emmet you shouldn't have come to help, but you showed correct procedure.  You were out of line but you did everything right!  I don't know what happened but when I saw that he was trying to kill-"  he paused.  Don't say  _'you'_  he thought to himself. "When I saw that he was going to kill one of my officers I snapped-"  Emmet was quiet.  "This wasn't your fault.  I'm not going to fire you for this.  Quit if you want to."  The stillness in the room between them was suffocating.  Bad Cop stared at the ceiling.  "I would have done that for any one of my officers."  It was a lie.  Bad Cop was good at lying though.  Most times it was easier than anything else.  If it were anyone else he would have stuck to the book, yelled at them over the radio to get out, to back off.  But with Emmet, he didn't even think, he didn't even consider taking chances with his life, and he brought down the hammer on the unlucky son of a bitch trying to hurt him.   _Hard_.

Emmet looked like he was going to cry.  Bad Cop wasn't sure what he wanted to do more, get away from him or sit up and slip his arms around him and tell him everything was ok.  His stomach churned.

"I knew you were a g-good guy-"  Emmet choked on his words.  

"Oh come on, man.  Yer making me sick…"  The police chief groaned.  "It's my job."  And he wasn't a good guy.  Not anymore.  He used to be- even back when he'd done so many terrible things.  His hand had been forced.  Controlled by Lord Business, threats against his parents and himself looming over his head daily.  The torture.  After Business had given him the choice between himself and his parents, it had all been on him.  It was all his choice and his responsibility.  Every righteous thing he'd done since just felt like he was working to repay an unpayable debt.  Every time a citizen would stare at him or hurry their children along upon spotting him, it felt like penance.  No one saw him differently now that he was on their side.  No one but Emmet, who had given him a second chance even before he'd done much of anything to redeem himself.  It felt like it didn't even matter, that Emmet would have done that for anyone, no matter how rotten the person's soul.  Emmet's opinion of him meant nothing- and yet it meant everything at the same time.  It meant that he kept his job.  It meant that he didn't go to prison and that even that he was still alive.  It meant that not  _everyone_  hated him.

The sound of Emmet's voice shook him from his thoughts.

"You should probably take one of these-" Emmet held up the bottle from B's nightstand, he was still sniffling.  Bad Cop rolled his eyes.  The kid's heart was so big he couldn't stand it.  He hated how it made him feel soft too when he was around.  "Sorry-" Emmet wiped his face with the back of his hand.  Bad Cop couldn't help but flinch every time he apologized.  He apologized as if it were the right thing to do- for an angel to ask forgiveness of the devil.

Bad Cop made a noncommittal sound and Emmet handed him one of the pills, then the glass of water.  He downed it gratefully, willing the meds to work fast.  He wanted to go back to sleep.  Being conscious right now sucked.  He couldn't even get away if he wanted.  God he wanted a cigarette and a drink, but he didn't even bother asking.  He knew Emmet wouldn't let him have any.

"Thought I told you to go home."

"And I told you I'm not going to.  And then you literally, instantly passed out for 12 hours."  Bad Cop sighed.  It was coming back to him now.

"Have you been awake this entire time?"  He felt guilty.  Had Emmet just been sitting out there waiting for Bad Cop to need him??

"No I went to sleep, but I heard you making noise in here and was worried."

"The couch?" Bad Cop frowned.

"Yeah.  Should... I sleep somewhere else?"

"No its just- I know that's not that comfortable.  Sorry."  He glanced around.  "You didn't take any pillows- bring one back with you."  Bad Cop pulled one of the pillows out from behind him and handed it to Emmet.

"Sure you don't need this?"

"Just take the damn pillow."

"Ok, ok! Sorry."  Emmet made sure Bad Cop was comfortable and left him to drift back to sleep.

 

**************************************************************************************************************

 

The next time Bad Cop woke, it was to the sound of a vacuum running.  His involuntary reaction was to sit bolt upright in bed, but a shock of pain in his chest stopped him.  What the hell was going on!?  Was Emmet cleaning his fucking house?  That wasn't part of the agreement!  Bad Cop was a mix of fear and fury, and the adrenaline rush numbed him enough to get into a sitting position and reach for the nightstand.  He quickly shook a pill out of his bottle of painkillers, downed it along with half the glass of water Emmet had left him, and slowly tried to roll out of bed and onto his good foot.  His bedroom was small.  It wouldn't be too hard to limp to the door, supporting himself on the walls.  Thinking about how ridiculous he must have looked only made him more angry.

When he got to the door, he flung it open with enough force for it to bang against the wall and shake.  That got Emmet's attention, and he switched off the vacuum cleaner.  The bastard was even smiling.

"Morning B! Was just about to come check on you to see if I could vacuum in your room- wait, why are you on your feet!?"  Emmet let the machine drop and hurried over, reaching out a hand to steady the police chief.  Bad Cop slapped it away and scowled at him.

"What?"  Emmet frowned.

" _I won't even know you're here…_ "  He mocked what Emmet had promised to him the day before.

"Crap, I'm sorry if I woke you up."

"I don't care about that, but what are you doing cleaning my house!?"

"I didn't exactly foresee you being mad about something like that-" Bad Cop scowled harder.  It was practically cartoonish.  Emmet put his hands up in surrender.  "I swear I don't judge you for the mess or anything- I am a slob, but I just thought it'd feel nice to have a clean apartment since you're going to be stuck in it for a while." 

Bad Cop sighed and slumped against the door frame, clutching his side.  Emmet moved to grab him, but the officer waved him away.

"Just let me stand on my own for a bit- I'm fine."  That didn't seem to convince him, but Emmet let him go reluctantly.  "I just don't want you snooping around in my stuff."

"No problem!" Emmet saluted him.  It was a ridiculous gesture, and some part of Bad Cop found it adorable.  Mostly though, he found it incredibly annoying.  "If you're worried about me finding your porn stash though, I'm afraid it's a little late-"

 _"WHAT!?"_   Bad Cop lurched forward, his face was fire engine red in seconds.  Meanwhile Emmet was doubled over laughing, and holding his sides.

"I'M SORRY-" B was gripping the door frame so hard his knuckles were white.   _"IT'S NOT LIKE I WENT LOOKING FOR IT, I-I SWEAR!"_   Emmet wiped tears from his eyes and wheezed.  " _If you try to tell me you bought the magazines for the articles-_ "

"You better watch your arse Brickowski!!" spittle flew from the police chief's mouth.  Emmet knew he shouldn't have said anything- the poor bastard was never going to get over this, but it was worth it to see the expression on his face when he'd said it.  B was even kindof cute when he was all red and angry over something like this- Emmet felt a twinge of mischievousness, he knew he shouldn't, but he had to needle him just a little bit more.

"What are you gonna do officer?"  He made a show of batting his eyelashes and looking frightened.

 _"DON'T-"_   Bad Cop was fuming.

"Are you going to spank me?"  Emmet almost couldn't make it through the sentence before he cracked up again.  Bad Cop tried to grab him from where he was standing but Emmet backed up just in time, and all the officer got was a handful of nothing.  He had to steady himself against the doorframe to keep from toppling over.  

"H-hey!"  He was still smiling, but he took the hint.  "Look I'm sorry, just your face when I said that-"

"Shut it, you little gobshite!"  This was ludicrous.  How did he let Emmet get to him like this??  He was a fucking adult with his own god damn house that he never had visitors to, who cared if he left things like that around?  And furthermore he's dealt with hardened criminals.  He's dealt with people needling him worse than this before, he'd even dealt with Emmet himself!  But Emmet had developed such a knack for pushing his buttons since then, and Bad Cop hated it more than anything.

"Hey seriously though I don't care."

"I said shut up!"  Emmet stopped smiling.

"I'm sorry, just that, eventually I was gonna have to tell you I put it somewhere thats not so-" he made a vague hand gesture, looking for the perfect word, "right there."  Just when Bad Cop was sure his face couldn't get any redder, more heat prickled up his neck.  He hadn't been this embarrassed by anything since he was a kid.  He was even embarrassed about being so easily embarrassed.  When he realized he'd overreacted he crumpled in on himself.

"It's fine just- Sorry.  I forgot about that."  He covered his face with his hand.

"Hey, I'm sorry I made fun of you, that probably wasn't cool, but really you don't have to feel bad about it, I know how it is."  Bad Cop glared at him through his fingers.  God he wished Emmet would just stop talking.  He was only making it worse by speaking to him like he was some kind of blushing teenager.  Though for all intents and purposes when he thought about it, he was acting like one.

The silence that followed was intensely awkward.  Emmet was the one to break it.

"Hey so uh-" He scratched the back of his neck, obviously choosing his words carefully as if he were about to bring up a sensitive subject.  Bad Cop felt a pit of cold dread form in his stomach. "You're not strai-"

"Don't-"

"Sorry."

"My parents know, that's it.  I'd like to keep it that way."  He didn't know why he bothered hiding that he was gay, not many people had much of a problem with it here in Bricksburg.  It was completely normal and nothing to be ashamed of, but the less people knew about the police chief's personal life, the better, as far as he was concerned.

"No, I promise I won't tell."  Emmet made a ridiculous gesture of zipping his lips and throwing away the key.  Bad Cop grumbled.  

"It better not end up like your last promise." He snarled, and Emmet frowned.

"I'm serious!  It's just that- well, that kind of thing played a pretty big role in why Lucy and I didn't work out."  The officer froze.  He willed his voice not to shake. 

"What do you mean?"  Bad Cop was dreading the answer.  He already felt light headed from the previous exchange, if Emmet was about to confess something big-

"I mean like, I don't think I ever really realized that-"  He fidgeted, obviously uncomfortable, "-that I wasn't so into women.  I mean, I like Lucy a lot! But no one had ever been that nice to me, or noticed me at all really, I think it was more of a crush than anything."  He looked at the floor, suddenly very interested in a clump of carpet fibers near his foot.  He was pushing at it, not daring to glance at Bad Cop.  "I know that probably sounds really stupid, I'm an adult and all, probably should have figured it out sooner but…"

"No, it not stupid."  B's voice was soft, quiet.  "It's pretty common actually."  He shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant about this seemed better than getting too emotional.  Emmet's confession was making this whole situation hard to bear.  He wanted to get away.  Bolt.  But he was stuck here with Emmet and he'd just essentially come out of the closet to him.  His head was spinning, he wanted to leave and not say another word, but somewhere in him there was this need to make sure Emmet was ok, that he came to terms with this.  He got the impression Lucy was the only other person that knew.

"You're not surprised or shocked or anything?" It was like deja vu hearing Emmet say that.  He could recall saying the same thing when he had told his parents.  He chuckled.

"Not much surprises me anymore." 

"Sorry, just, when you said you didn't want anyone to know- I kindof know how you feel."  Bad Cop's heart ached.  It probably wasn't easy going from a nobody to someone who's every move was documented by the media.  He knew what it felt like in his own way, except all Bad Cop's publicity had been horrible, and there wasn't much of anywhere to go but up.  Emmet however, was held to such impossible standards day in and day out.  He could only imagine how it really was.

Emmet suddenly straightened, face lighting up.

"Hey enough of that though, I just realized you haven't eaten in like an entire day- I went out and got a few things this morning!  The stuff in your fridge was pretty gross."  Bad Cop sagged, reeling from a mixture of guilt, and relief that he had changed the subject.  Emmet was being too kind to him.  He didn't deserve all this, but it was clear he wasn't going to convince him to stop any time soon.

"I wasn't sure what you like, so I got a few different things?"  He unplugged the vacuum and stowed it in the hall closet.  "Come on, I got you a present too!"  He walked over to the officer, offering a hand.

"Emmet I think I'd like to try the crutches if you'd let me."  He held out his hand.  "I made it to the door alright on my own."

Emmet shot him a skeptical look, but finally went to get them.

"You know I'll feel terrible if you hurt yourself-"

"Then I'll try not to."  Bad Cop gritted his teeth.  Everything was stiff, and it felt like his bones were creaking with the effort, but moving on his own felt so liberating.  He tried not to let the pain show as he slowly made his way down the hall and into the kitchen.  He was starving now that he thought about it, and was excited to finally have something other than hospital food.  It didn't matter what it was.  He was excited to have an _appetite at all_.  The meds he'd been on in the hospital made it hard to keep food down.  Emmet followed him, watching intently till they got to the table.

"Thanks." The officer managed a half smile and sat down in one of the rickety old chairs.

"Hang on I'll go get your thing-"  Bad Cop looked up.  He'd forgotten about the gift already.  He dreaded this.  Bad Cop was so bad at receiving things.  Most of the time it'd be something he didn't even want or wouldn't use.  On the rare occasion he got a gift that was useful he always felt guilty for it, and didn't know how to show his appreciation.  Either way it always felt like the gift giver's efforts were wasted on him, and it always showed.

Emmet came strolling back with his hands behind him, Bad Cop could hear faint clacking noises.  He tried to prepare himself, mentally coached himself on how to look appreciative.  It felt pathetic.

"Close your eyes!"  Emmet was wearing the biggest dopey smile.  It irritated him.  This was childish.

"Come on, just show me what it is-"  His annoyance was already beginning to show.  This was the opposite of how he was supposed to act-

"No! I bought this for you so you have to do what I say."   _Holy shit Emmet was just asking for a punch in the gut._   But at length, Bad Cop sighed and did as he was told, cocking his head to the side dramatically and working his jaw to show his displeasure.  "Don't open them till I say you can, ok-"  The officer huffed.  If he could roll his eyes with them closed, he would.  There was a beat.  He could hear Emmet shuffling and Bad Cop felt a small twinge of fear.  He hated being at anyone's mercy like this.  He hated how much he automatically trusted Emmet, and let his guard down so easily for him.  His instincts were all screaming at him to open his eyes, but Emmet had told him not to...

There was a familiar feeling against his face, a slight cold weight.  His eyes snapped open on their own.

"Hey I didn't say you could look yet!"  Emmet was smiling, he obviously wasn't too hurt.

Everything was about 5 shades darker, and he ripped the glasses off his face in disbelief, looking at them.  Emmet laughed.

"These are my old glasses?"  Bad Cop held them up, confused.  They were exact, right down to the fit.

"No- _these,_ are your old glasses." Emmet brought his other hand out from behind his back, holding up a pair of bent and scratched up wire rims with an entire lens missing, and only a few shards of the other one left.  "I had to look around everywhere for a pair that was just the same.  Yours aren't quite standard aviators-"  Bad Cop almost felt angry, here he was the biggest jerk in Emmet's life and the kid was doing things like this for him.  At this rate he'd never repay his debt to Emmet.

"Don't know what to say."  Bad Cop stared at the glasses on the table.  "Thank you."

"It's no problem.  I almost can't imagine you without them anyway, it'd be weird."  Bad Cop finally smiled at that. Emmet opened the fridge and studied the shelves.  "So what do you say I make lunch?"

"Sounds good to me."


	4. Cravings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Cop is healing way too slowly for his liking, warnings for alcohol and some stronger nsfw themes. B is getting real sick of Emmet being so close to him for more than just the obvious reasons. This chapter is mostly Emmet and Bad Cop being complete children... I apologize in advance.

Bad Cop spent most of his days shut in his room avoiding Emmet. He really wished the kid would just leave already. His crutches were just fine, but Emmet pitched such a fit when he'd brought it up that he just let him stay so he didn't have to hear about it anymore. Bad Cop knew it was childish. This was his damn apartment, and Emmet was the guest.  Being vulnerable like this was the bane of his existence. He hated it more than anything because it took away his authority, and sometimes he felt like that was the only thing he had left.

God he wanted a drink.

He could hear the sound of the shower running in the bathroom down the hall.  It helped calm his nerves a bit to have that soft background noise.  Sometimes when it was too quiet, he got anxious.  When it was too loud, he got furious.  This was almost enjoyable.  He laid back, willing his body to drift off to sleep.  Sleep passed the time better than anything else, even if too much of it made him feel like shit.  His mind wandered, and it occurred to him that this was almost preferable to being alone sometimes.  Just knowing someone else was in the apartment.  Someone who didn't want him dead- someone he trusted.  Someone who actually had faith in him.

His eyelids drooped.  He felt warm.  Not an uncomfortable kind of warm- it was nice, made it easier to relax.  It made him feel safe.

 

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_There was a soft knock on the door and the police chief opened his eyes sluggishly.  Everything felt so warm and heavy and comfortable._

_"Hey sleepyhead."   It was Emmet.  His hair was wet and he was in a white t-shirt and boxers. "You feel like eating dinner or should I just leave you to rest?"_

_Bad Cop gave a noncommittal hum and closed his eyes again.  He should be annoyed at being woken, but he wasn't.  He heard Emmet step into the room, and walk softly over to him._

_"B-"  He continued gently.  He didn't sound impatient, but obviously Bad Cop's response wasn't good enough for him.  "'Mmm' isn't an answer."  Bad Cop fought to keep his eyes open this time.  Emmet was close, leaning over him.  His form outlined by the hall light spilling through the open door.  He smelled like some ridiculous fruity body wash and Bad Cop felt a laugh bubbling in his chest, because **of course** emmet would use something like that.  It was nice.  Better than the disgusting stuff he smelled on most of the younger officers he had to work with day in and day out.  B hadn't realized he'd been smiling at him till he saw Emmet smiling back.  
_

_"You're really tired huh?" _Emmet chuckled a bit.__

_"Yeah."  Bad Cop felt drunk.  His head was fuzzy with sleep and he was acutely aware of how Emmet's t-shirt hugged his body.  He felt heat creep into his face, but he didn't bother to fight it.  Emmet noticed his wandering eyes._

_"See something you like?" He laughed.  Bad Cop gave another vague hum._

_Just then, Emmet bent down and captured B's lips with his own.  The officer felt a lazy wave of pleasant heat roll through his gut as he let himself be kissed, he wanted the swelling warmth consume him.  It all felt so good.  And it'd been so damn long since he'd felt this too-_

_A soft growl bubbled up in his throat and Emmet devoured it, deepening the kiss.  The gentle waves in his abdomen evolved into throbbing in his groin.  He was definitely awake now, and every nerve in his body screamed with want.  He gripped the back of Emmet's head and pulled him down until their faces fit together.  He felt dizzy and he was breathing hard._

_Emmet pulled away, only to climb on top of him gently.  Bad Cop damned his injuries.  He wanted so badly to be rough, to slam the other man back on the bed and work him over until he was begging- but right now he would settle for anything, god- he didn't want Emmet to ever stop what he was doing to his throat with his mouth..._

" **B- wake up!** "

Bad Cop almost had a heart attack as he startled awake to see a very concerned Emmet standing over him at the side of his bed.

"Sorry to wake you, just- I thought you were up but you didn't answer me. I asked what you wanted for dinner- or if you just wanted to sleep."  Bad Cop groaned and sat up, rubbing his face, hoping Emmet couldn't see how red it probably was.  It had been over a month since he'd gotten off and it was starting to get to him.  He tried his best to push everything out of his mind that had anything to do with how Emmet smelled or how he looked in his t-shirt.  It was just a stupid dream...  

His chest burned.

Bad Cop growled.  "Anything's fine.  I'll be in in a few minutes."  He waved Emmet away and pulled more blankets into his lap.  There was no way Emmet could have seen his erection through them but even so, he felt exposed.  Emmet had to have been standing there the entire time the police chief had been dreaming about kissing him silly.  

It took an excruciating amount of time to calm down, and even when he managed it, Bad Cop didn't want to leave his room.  He really needed that drink now though-

 

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Bad Cop made his way into the kitchen, ignoring Emmet's cheery greeting and heading straight for the fridge.  He wrenched the door open, grabbed a beer, and let it slam shut again.  Emmet looked at him.

"You probably shouldn't with the meds and all-" 

B glared at him as he cracked it open.  It was a lot easier to defy Emmet now that he had his glasses back.  There was a barrier between them again.

"Hey- did you hear me?" He continued.

"I did. I just _don't care."_  Bad Cop growled, and Emmet shut up, even though he obviously wasn't happy about it.

The silence in the room was suffocating as B sat at the table with his drink.  Emmet was _cooking for him_ … it felt wrong.  He felt self conscious and helpless.  He couldn't even go outside on his own for a smoke.  B focused on the grain in the tabletop, found a small dent and scratched at it, trying desperately to ignore the crushing silence.  The beer did little to loosen the knot in his gut, he wished for something stronger, but he was sure Emmet wouldn't tolerate it.

"You should leave tomorrow.  I can take care of myself."  Emmet groaned.

"B, come on-"  He turned to look at him and was met with a scowl.  "We've gone over this- I know you want to be alone and stuff but I really want to make sure you're ok before I leave."  He tried to sound authoritative but Bad Cop was staring him down and it was getting to him.  Frustrated, he reached for his glasses to take them off but his hand was smacked away.   _Hard_.

"The hell are you doing?" The police chief barked.  Emmet rubbed his hand, looking like a sad dog.

"Just- its hard for people to talk to you when you wear those…"

"That's why I like 'em."  The younger officer frowned.

Bad Cop downed the rest of his beer and got up from his chair.

"Just put my dinner away.  I'm not hungry anymore."  He grabbed another out of the fridge and angrily crutched off towards his bedroom.  Emmet heard him slam the door and he sagged.  

He shouldn't have expected anything else.  He knew Bad Cop didn't let people get close.  Even when his life depended on it, he still spat venom at everyone who tried to help- and that person was Emmet more often than not.

He curled in on himself.  God he missed his own bed.  He missed his _nice_ friends.  Part of him wanted to leave and go home.  B would be happier and he wouldn't have to put up with any more of his attitude, but a pain in his heart kept him rooted in place.  Bad Cop didn't have anybody.  The only person he used to have had made him bitter and defensive.  They had tortured him and preyed on scrap of friendliness and trust that he had until there was none left.  Bad Cop had been turned into a machine engineered for taking orders and getting his job done at any and all costs.

Emmet busied himself finishing up the cooking, put all the food away, and curled up on the couch.  He sure wished B would talk to him.  It was so hard to sleep when he knew he wasn't welcome.

 

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The next morning when Emmet knocked on Bad Cop's door, there wasn't an answer.

"B? I know you're in there, there's no other reason you'd lock the door.  I just wanna talk." 

Silence.

"B?? Come on, I'm worried!" Emmet pounded on the door.  "B!?" 

"JESUS CHRIST, would you _shut the HELL up!!_  I'm trying to sleep away the rest of the time I have to deal with your _god damn presence in my house!"_

"B, I know you don't like this, but you're not gonna get better that way you gotta do stuff like eat, and drink..."  There was a pause. _"...water."_  He added for good measure.

"You're not my god damn mother, Brickowski!!  _I CAN WALK ON MY OWN, WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU STILL HERE!?"_

Emmet flinched.

"I- I just really want to make sure you're alright B! You _really_ got hurt back there and-" there was a loud crash against the door and Emmet jumped away, waiting for Bad Cop to come through the door swinging- _somehow_.  He'd seen the man fist-fight with gunshot wounds, he could probably still throw a punch if he wanted to.  There was only silence, and Emmet relaxed slightly, slumping against the wall.

"Well you gotta come out sometime!" He yelled, and plopped down on the hall carpet with a thud.  He was going to wait this out.  Two could play this game, he thought, as he glared at the bedroom door.

 

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Emmet picked himself up off the floor, idly rubbing the carpet print out of his face.  He'd fallen asleep.  Bad Cop's door was still locked, and a quick check of his watch revealed that it was 2 in the afternoon.  This was ridiculous.  He wandered into the kitchen, trying to come up with a plan.  At length, Emmet thought of one.  It was a little cruel, but he was worried Bad Cop would really stay in there till he left if he didn't get him to open the door somehow.  It only took a few minutes to set everything up, and he stood at the end of the hallway, putting on his best expression of utter horror and confusion.

He swore for effect before running down the hall and pounding on Bad Cop's door frantically.

"B- I swear to god, this is serious!" He tried to make his voice shake.  "I don't know what's going on -but my head hurts and there's a lot of blood-"  He wiped at his nose, and made sure his hands were sufficiently coated.  He heard shuffling from the other side.  The door opened a crack.

"Nice try Brickowski, but-" At the sight of Emmet, Bad Cop choked on his words, and threw open the door.  The color drained from his face.  "What the fuck happened?!   _Are you alright??"_

"I don't know- I don't- my head just started hurting really, _really bad_ and-" He stumbled backwards and gave a sickening, wet cough, sending a fresh spray of blood down his shirt, in addition to the smears under his nose and his stained hands.

"Shit, Emmet- what did you do!?!"  Bad Cop staggered out into the hallway to steady the younger officer, who looked like his knees were about to buckle.

Emmet took the opportunity to shoulder past him and slam the bedroom door shut, putting his body between it and the stunned police chief.  It felt like an eternity that they stood there staring at each other.  Emmet broke the silence.

"It's just corn syrup-"

"Jesus."  Bad Cop hung his head as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Look I'm sorry, I don't want you to hate me- I just wanted to talk."

"Don't ever pull that shit again, you hear me?"

"I mean- its- you wouldn't talk to me..."

 _"Do you hear me??"_ Emmet stilled.

"Yes."

Bad Cop sighed and crutched down the hall to the bathroom door, throwing it open and glaring at Emmet.

"I give up.  Just come here and clean yourself up first before you make any more of a mess."

Emmet eyed him, wary.

"Oh come on- I'm not going to fucking run back in there if that's what you're so worried about." 

Emmet took a few cautious steps away from the door until he was satisfied that he wouldn't have to tackle his boss.  Bad Cop made a show of rolling his eyes.

He followed him in the bathroom to make sure he didn't drip on anything, and also because Emmet was still glancing in his direction, checking to see if he was still standing there.  It was ridiculous.  Bad Cop sighed loudly.

"Emmet - I swear to god..." He slammed the door and locked it. "There?  Now if I was going to run back, I'd have to unlock this and you'd hear me.  I'm not a fucking olympic runner on crutches-"

"Sorry."  Emmet avoided his boss's glare and turned on the sink.

"Just get cleaned up."  Bad Cop grumbled, and leaned against the door, scowling at the shower curtain.

The younger officer pulled his ruined t-shirt over his head, and Bad Cop clenched his jaw.  This was a mistake.  He'd literally just locked himself in the bathroom with Emmet and now he was shirtless.  B closed his eyes and willed the other man to hurry up.  He wanted to escape, but Emmet coming after him without a shirt on was an infinitely worse situation than the current one, and if he could avoid that he would.

After a minute or two of splashing water on his face and washing a bit of stray fake blood out of his hair, Emmet toweled himself off and turned to Bad Cop.  His hair was mussed and wet in places, and B tried not to look at him.

"All clean!"  He beamed at the police chief, who only growled in return, and opened the door.  Emmet pushed past him before he could move, and B bristled at the contact.  Hesitantly, he followed the man out into the living room, where Emmet was rummaging through his bag.  He pulled on a clean shirt and walked into the kitchen.  Bad Cop wished he could relax now, but all he could think of was the image of Emmet smiling at him in the bathroom, hair messy and dripping wet.  

B cleared his throat and stood awkwardly in the doorway.  

"You wanted to talk?" Emmet stopped cleaning the bowl he had used for the blood.  He looked at him sheepishly. 

"I mean I just- last night I made you mad.  I wanted to make sure you didn't hate me."

"Course not, _yer just a joy to have around."_

Emmet looked stricken.  Bad Cop immediately regretted the quip.  He opened his mouth to apologize when Emmet spoke first.

"Really??"

B gaped.  The sarcasm had gone completely over Emmet's head and he was now looking at him hopefully.  He wasn't sure what made him more angry- how clueless the kid was, or the fact that he didn't have the heart to let him down.

"I mean-" B struggled to form a sentence. "You've taken good care of me."  He looked at the floor.

Emmet dropped the dishes in the sink and walked over to hug him.  Bad Cop put out a hand to stop him.

"Don't-  I still want you to leave as soon as possible." Emmet frowned.

"I guess.  Just... it's not just about your injuries.  I mean that's why I'm here, yeah but-" Emmet fidgeted.  "I'm worried you don't take care of yourself."  Bad Cop squinted at him.

"I told you, you're not my mother."

"No! I know... but I'm your friend and I just want you to be ok."

"I am ok.   _I've been ok-"_

 _"Have you though?"_  The younger officer met his eyes.  Bad Cop wanted to bolt.  He took a long breath in through his nose.  B felt like Emmet knew the answer already.  Hell, he probably did.

"I'm an adult, Brickowski.  I can take care of myself from here."  If he couldn't lie to Emmet, at least he could still duck the question.


End file.
